Three More Minutes
by BofBanoff
Summary: It’s a desperately hot day, and the world has shrunk to two murdered women and the aftershock that comes with death. Takes off during Three Minutes. SawyerKate.
1. Chapter 1

**Three More Minutes**

Title: Three More Minutes  
_Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Slightly manipulated from the grave-digging scenes of Kate and Hurley in Three Minutes to Kate and Sawyer.  
Warnings: One or two mild instances of language, but nothing major.  
Status of Fic: WIP  
Author's Notes/Disclaimer: Lost unfortunately does not belong to me in any way, shape or form._

It's a desperately hot day, and the world has shrunk to two murdered women and the aftershock that comes with death. There are two solitary figures, two shovels, two piles of discarded sand, two graves. Two people given wide berths out of respect and sadness and just a little fear. The designated grave diggers work on in the heat in silence, thinking, reflecting. One of them is male, transferring raw emotion into the thrust of the shovel. One of them is female, desperately trying to understand.

Kate's not exactly sure when Ana-Lucia became important to Sawyer; all she knows is that somewhere along the line, something happened between them, something that didn't include her. She can guess at what it was, and it makes her feel guilty that this is what is occupying her mind whilst she's four foot into Ana's grave.

She digs on, determined not to glance at his face. She knows it's wrong, to be jealous of a dead woman, and she's not even sure exactly what she's jealous about. She hits the shovel harder into the ground with each push, venting her frustrations into a pile of sand that will smother Ana in an eternal declaration of her turbulent emotions.

She never hated Ana, never knew her well enough; but what she represented, _the other woman_, that she did. She hadn't even been aware of this status until after Ana-Lucia's death, so why it's hitting her so hard right now is eluding her. But deep down she knows it's because _he's_ upset, and whilst she prides herself on seeing a little more of him than the other survivors, she's never seen him like this and she's realising how little she knows about him.

She hated Ana for having the courage to be with him, when all Kate could do was run away; she hated her for making moves on him, when she was too afraid to give in to his. And now she's claimed some part of him, something Kate can never have, and she's jealous of this dead woman with the eternal sneer and shoot-'em-up attitude.

She stops her increasingly frantic shovelling and rests her chin on the top dejectedly, vaguely registering the steady dig and throw of Sawyer in the grave next to her. Her lip trembles uncontrollably and she turns away from him even as the sound of a strangled gasp escapes her lips. She's grieving, but not for Ana, for Sawyer and for herself, and if killing her father doesn't send her to hell then her lack of grief for Ana will, but still she accepts his comfort when he climbs out of one grave into another and stands behind, grasping her shoulder. She's afraid to turn around, to expose herself, to see him exposed, but the second an unsuppressed tear rolls down her cheek his finger is there to scoop it up and she can't help it, she turns, and when she sees the faintest shimmering in his eyes she can't take it any longer.

The shovel falls, making a dull thud against the wall of the sandy grave, and she tries to climb out of this hole she's dug. The metaphorical irony would have made her wince at any other time, but he's pulling her back down by the belt loops on her dusty jeans, dragging her back down with him.

He's standing so close to her, towering over her, and she flinches slightly, because she can't imagine ever invoking the depth of emotion she sees in his eyes that Ana must have caused. He's not saying anything and his jaw is working, his Adam's apple is bobbing as he struggles to retain his calm façade, he's staring right at her and she's entranced by him so much she doesn't realise he's kissing her until she feels his lips capture hers.

He's rough, persistent, as if he's trying to force out the feelings, the memories, the pain all out, and Kate is the same, until she realises that they are standing in the grave of the last person he must have kissed, and she breaks off, repulsed.

Sawyer looks a little dazed and he stares at her in confusion, so she stares right back until she can see understanding dawn in his eyes. He reaches out to her, but she takes a step back so she's flush against the four foot wall of the graves.

"Sawyer," she whispers sadly, but all he says is "it so easily could have been you."

They resume their digging, soldiering on in the sweltering heat. Not a word is said and the silence hangs over them uncomfortably. But questions are burning Kate's tongue and she has to ask:

"Did you love her?"

Sawyer turns his head slowly towards her, before climbing out and walking over to the cliff top where he sits contemplatively. Kate follows him, unsure of his reaction but too much in need of an answer.

"Ana-Lucia was a conniving little bitch."

He says it almost fondly and her heart sinks.

"She was a means to an end, as I was to her. Whatever connection we had, it was simple. She's the sort of girl I'd pick up in a bar and fuck in the back alley. It was raw, primal. She'd do her thing, I'd do mine."

He looks at Kate sharply.

"I could never love a woman like that."

Kate thinks she should feel relieved, but it opens up her insecurities, and guilt and fear of rejection make her close off to him. She turns away, head bowed, biting her lip until it bleeds.

His arm reaches out and grasps her wrist.

"Hell Freckles, you think you and me have ever been simple?"

She doesn't look up at him but smiles despite herself, fixating on the hand that's rubbing the underside of her wrist so gently.

"If you'd-"

His gruff voice breaks off at this, and he retreats, aware that he's bared himself too much. She blindly gropes next to her until she finds his warm knee and she squeezes reassuringly as she stares out to sea and wonders vaguely about Hurley. Her thoughts move on to Libby, then back to Ana, and she finds she can't hate her, because she can recognise a messed up person and she feels sorry that there will be no resolution to her life.

Her hand is still on his knee and his arm comes up to loosely rest on her shoulders. She's upset at how far Ana and Sawyer went, that she had not even an inkling about it, but she can't blame the woman with the hole in her chest or the man who has his heart on his sleeve. She wonders if this brings back the ringing gunshots signalling his parents' deaths, and she squeezes his knee tighter.

"I'm sorry Ana died," she says, and she means it.

Sawyer draws her closer, and as she leans her head into the crook of his neck he plants a soft, lingering hiss on her hair.

They sit and stare; for now, they have the time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Three More Minutes – Chapter Two**

The funeral started three minutes ago but time stands still for no one. Sawyer has pushed himself to the front with Hurley, a significant position Kate wonders if anyone else notices. Every time she goes to get closer to him he moves away, sometimes imperceptibly, but still it hurts, and she wonders if what went on earlier between the two meant anything. She settles for comforting Hurley, but her eyes bear holes into Sawyer's back. It's easier being mad at him than grieving for him, with him.

* * *

He had told her that he never even knew Ana's last name.

She had looked at him, her heart silently breaking for a man grieving for another woman.

"_James_," she had said, and he gripped her shoulder tightly, drawing her in for a hug, almost cutting off her circulation, but she didn't care because she needed to let him know; needed to let him feel, that she was there for him.

"Kate Austen," he had murmured into her soft curls. He inhaled deeply, gathering himself for what he was about to admit.

"I cared for her. I cared for Ana, and I didn't even know it 'til she was dead. What does that make me?"

She had gripped him tighter, for she had no idea how to answer that.

* * *

He had cared for her, but he hadn't loved her, and Kate thinks she can deal with that. She hates herself for still fixating on this instead of Ana, even as the woman's body is being lowered into the hole she herself has dug. Maybe it's easier to deny than to feel. It's certainly simpler, she thinks.

Hurley starts to speak and she rests her hand on his back. She doesn't know how Hurley is still standing, if it had been Sawyer…a lump fills her throat and she cannot finish this line of thought. She sees Claire grab Charlie's hand and hers is itching to find Sawyer's. She craves the comfort a simple touch by him can give her, but she respects his feelings, it's not the place for her to make demands, and she curls her hand into a fist to repress the urge.

Libby's body is in the ground now; Hurley's scattering sand over her and Jack is doing the same for Ana. Sawyer makes no move, he seems rooted to the spot, staring but unable to move. Kate walks to the grave, slides a hand down his arm gently as she passes, and throws sand over Ana's grave.

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry you died. I'm sorry I never got to know you and I'm sorry for thinking about Sawyer when both of you are dead._

The crowd is dispersing and suddenly Sawyer is next to her, almost touching but not quite. She can't resist any longer and slips a small hand in to his and he grips it tightly, his face betraying nothing and his hand everything. He bends down, still awkwardly holding her hand, and picks up his own handful of sand, and sends his own apologies as he throws it over the grave.

He abruptly stalks off to the jungle and Kate finds herself being almost dragged along until she finds her feet. He is unable, unwilling to let go of her, but he can't let his feelings out, not now, not here. Behind them Sayid watches, before picking up a shovel and burying Libby and Ana-Lucia, obscuring them from the world forever.

* * *

He leads her through the dense foliage, expertly avoiding little snags and branches obscuring their path. After a while she realises that he is taking her to their waterfall. She still thinks of it as theirs, she realises, and decides she likes it.

They are almost at the clearing when he pushes her against a tree and lowers his mouth onto hers. His pace is frantic, desperate, and she loops her arms around his neck, drawing his body closer to hers as his tongue snakes into her mouth. He pushes up tighter against her until all she can see is him, all she can feel, hear, breathe. She rakes her fingers gently through the ends of his hair, and his mouth moves from hers onto her jawbone, onto the crook of her neck. He sucks, bites, gently laps the soft skin, wanting to leave something tangible on her, wanting to mark her, and she lets him, wanting it as much as him. His desperate passion is leaving him now and Kate accommodates that by stroking his back with one hand, clutching a bunch of the fabric of his shirt in the other. He is grieving for another woman, but it's ok because he's come to her for comfort, has let her see past the façade he's been putting up.

He buries his head into the crook of her neck, his slightly colder nose pressed firmly against her smooth, warm flesh. The noise of the waterfall permeates their little world, and Kate's not quite sure if she can hear stifled sniffs coming from Sawyer. She pulls him down to the ground and leans his head against her chest, stroking his hair with one hand whilst the other is gripped tightly by his hand.

He's a little boy again, and the gunshots of the past are clear as day. He's not physically crying, but his body is shaking with emotion, for Ana, for his parents, for everything. In this moment he is weak, and she is the strong one. He lets her look after him and she loves that he trusts her, cares about her enough to let her do this for him.

"Why do I care?" he whispers, dazed. In matters of the heart, he is as lost as Kate is, perhaps more so. The years of anger had dissipated into a confusion, and he looks up at her, searching for an answer. He doesn't find one, but he finds the warm green of her eyes, the inexplicable draw of her freckles, the soft pink of her lips, and she bends her head down towards him and they kiss again, because this they know. She keeps it gentle, comforting, and Sawyer is surprised to find out that he is enjoying this just as much as the passionate embraces. She breaks away, finally, and rests her forehead on his, her nose brushing against his, teasing. Her lips are so close, so tempting, and he almost takes one between his, but he has something he needs to say:

"I care about you Kate."

It sounds awkward, foreign to his mouth, but the meaning, the emotions behind it, they've never been more real. The words are sticking to his tongue, and she's just looking at him, and he feels a fool. But she's smiling, and looking at him straight in the eye.

"I care about you too, Sawyer. More than you know."

He takes it in, and he smiles back. And later, when he asks if they can stay awhile, he doesn't feel weak because he knows she feels the same. He can be weak with her, in a way he's never allowed himself to be before.

He had cared for Ana but Kate, Kate was something else.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three More Minutes – Chapter Three**

He's back in control, and out for revenge. There's a .45 poking out of the back of his jeans and a crease in between his eyes that shows he means business. The slouch in his back is missing, and unless Kate had seen his weakness in the jungle she would not have believed this was the same man. His forehead is pulled down into a frown, his body drawn tall and there's a confidence that exudes from him, because this he does know.

There is nothing to do but wait, and Sawyer is pacing up and down in the hatch. The five of them were supposed to meet down here but no one's turned up except for him and Kate. And the multitude of thoughts whirling in his mind.

"Sawyer, stop." The constant movement is driving her crazy even though she's itching to get going. Neither of them are any good at waiting.

He makes a concerted effort to stop, but ends up tapping his leg incessantly, annoying Kate even more. To stop tensions escalating further he blurts out something that's been circulating around his head.

"It's too sudden."

"It's always too sudden," she replies vaguely, her mind far away in her own world of troubles. She blinks and looks back at him, to focus on the immediate events, rather than the past. She exhales and sits down on the sofa. Sawyer remains standing, too much adrenaline pumping around his body, his mind.

"I just wish – three more minutes, you know? To straighten things out, to…to say goodbye. Three more minutes. There's a million of them everyone's wasting, but three tiny ones can't be spared? It's not fair." He doesn't even know if he's talking about Ana anymore, not when the palimpsest of his parents deaths threatens to emerge.

"I know." She's serious now. "It's not fair. It's never fair. But even three minutes…that's not enough to say goodbye to some people."

Her mossy green eyes look at him in this intense way that no eyes should ever be able to look because it's too damn dangerous, and he can suddenly see how she views him; it's surreal but he loves it and he feels the same, three minutes would never be long enough to say goodbye to Kate. He can't even think about it. Losing Ana was one thing, little more than an unended fling, but three minutes? That's all he needed to make things right, to tie up their loose ends.

She looks as though she is misinterpreting his look and he wonders how someone so good at reading his emotions when he _doesn't_ want her to can get it so wrong.

"Kate. Stop it. The thing with Ana was never going to be anything real, anything more than a quick lay and some tossed barbs. She knew I liked you. There would never have been anything real. There is no way in hell we would have been a "couple"." Sawyer's hands curl into mock quotations and the sneer on his tongue is the only thing that is stopping her from laughing at the ridiculous gesture he is making.

Something else comes into his mind, and he has to know about it. He knows it may not be a suitable time, but it's burning the roof of his mouth and if they're heading out to danger later, he needs to know now.

"Jack tells me you two were caught in a net." He wiggles his eyebrows to insinuate in his usual leering way but the grim line of his mouth suggests he doesn't find it amusing. There's a tightness in his chest and he wonders how Kate is coping with the knowledge that he and Ana shared some carnal knowledge with each other.

Kate knows exactly what he is insinuating, but she's tired of all the secrets and lies and mistranslations, the sex and kisses and covertness that seems to be plaguing the island.

"We were caught in a net, but that was it. No implications, just the oh so very literal meaningI don't want to talk about this now anyway."

The question of her and Jack will inevitably lead to the question of Sawyer and Ana and she quite frankly does not want to know. She sees Sawyer visibly relax and there's a vindictive part of her that wishes he could feel the hurt she does, even if it she has no business feeling it. But Jack has said things to her too, and maybe it's a good time to get things out in the open.

"You told Jack he was the closest thing you had to a friend." She's hurt, and it shows, but Sawyer just laughs. She narrows her eyes angrily and crosses her hands against her chest defensively.

"You think we could ever be just friends? You think we've ever been friends? You can't be just friends with someone with whom you share enough sexual tension to explode the whole damn island!"

His eyes are sparkling, he's teasing her, and she's completely fallen for it. She's fighting not to give in, but he grabs her round the waist. She tries to hit him back but he clutches her tighter and it annoys her, so she tries to elbow him, but he's already anticipated it and he pushes her struggling form against the hatch wall.

"You're not going to head butt my pretty little head now are you darling?" he drawls, his lips curved up in a smile. She's angry, and it's heightened by the fact that he's anticipating her moves, and her eyes are sparkling with anger, whilst his are with amusement, and he leans in and she hungrily matches her mouth to his and attacks him in a way that's thoroughly acceptable to him.

They never hear Jack come in, they never see him standing in shock, and they definitely do not hear him leave as quietly as he entered.

Soon they will be leaving to find the Others and Walt, but for now they are oblivious to the world, only aware of the feelings the other is invoking in them.

Later is later, because Sawyer and Kate are living in the now.


End file.
